


Day 16: Flannel ft. Stucky

by Pippiuscattius



Series: Pippi's Holiday Shipping Challenge: Take Two [16]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Cuz i did, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Holiday Shipping Challenge, Kisses, M/M, Mentions of Bucky's Brainwashing, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Quote: I'm with you 'til the end of the line, REMEMBER THAT RUSSOS, The happy ending the Russos would never give us, flannel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippiuscattius/pseuds/Pippiuscattius
Summary: Steve has brought home a bag of soft, warm flannel to share with Bucky as winter grows colder and Christmas draws nearer. It's just one of many things they can share now that they have a home and a life together.(This is part of a collection of silly, rushed drabbles for me to get into the holiday spirit. Make of them what you will, and happy holidays!)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Pippi's Holiday Shipping Challenge: Take Two [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569934
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Day 16: Flannel ft. Stucky

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written an MCU fic before, so if anything is off I apologize. I just have a lot of f e e l i n g s about these two and so so many more characters in the series who deserved better.
> 
> *COUGH*LOKI*COUGH*
> 
> I mean what I didn't say anything

Bucky was hunched over the table, tinkering on his prosthetic arm when Steve entered. He barely seemed to notice his boyfriend’s entrance, too busy picking at a panel on his Wakandan limb in a vain attempt to pry it open. Seriously, _what_ was up with vibranium?

“Still no luck?” Steve assumed, setting down a crinkly shopping bag atop the table.

“No,” Bucky deadpanned, glaring at his reflection in the metal. “It’s going exactly as I planned it to.”

“I could call in a favor with T’challa if you really want to have it looked at,” Steve offered, rummaging around in the bags. “I bet Shuri would be happy to see you again.”

“That little nerd would be happy to see my _arm_ again,” Bucky corrected, giving up on his arm. He’d almost be tempted to pound it against the table to let out his frustration, but that would only damage the hardwood he and Steve had so specifically picked out for their home.

_Their_ home. Yeah…that still felt a little weird to say. But in the aftermath of the snap, the apocalypse, and more time shenanigans than Bucky could keep up with (no matter _how_ many times Steve tried to explain the order of events to him), it was exactly what the two of them wanted, and they finally had it.

“What’d you bring home this time?” Bucky asked, angling his head to peer into the nearest bag. On a typical day, Steve would swing by someplace for a new, pointless decoration to add to their increasingly-cluttered home, a box of fresh shawarma, or the latest tech novelty that they could only afford on their semi-retired hero budget (“I’ll just never stop being amazed by how far technology has come, Buck! I had to try it.”)

Instead, Bucky found none of those among Steve’s scavengings. Piled in the bottom of the bag were…two soft blankets? Possibly oversized pajama tops? Whatever they were, they looked, in a word, comfy.

“Flannel,” Steve supplied, reaching inside to unfurl the baggy, cottony shirts, one red, one blue, and both darkened by crisscrossing lines of plaid throughout.

Squinting and leaning back in his chair, Bucky challenged, “…Why?”

“Mostly because it’s winter,” Steve said, laying the garments out flat on the tabletop. “And I don’t want to get cold. I’ve spent enough of my life frozen already, thank you very much.”

Okay, that was kind of funny. Bucky snorted and pulled the blue shirt closer. “Yet they call _me_ the Winter Soldier.”

“You were frozen too, Buck.”

A smirk shone out from Bucky’s beard, which he remembered was overdue for a trim. “Guess that makes us two of a kind, then.”

It was nice to think that they could joke about those elements of their past; to a degree, of course. Bucky still wasn’t keen to muse over what he’d done at the hands of HYDRA, obviously, but in the interim of relative peace that had followed…just about _everything_ , he was beginning to work through it. Steve helped most of all, of course; he understood in a way that probably no one else quite could.

“Oh!” Steve perked up, leaning across the table. “That blue one’s for you. Thought you’d like one, too.”

Holding the shirt up to test its size against his torso, Bucky replied, “Uh, thanks…I appreciate it. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to get red and _green_ instead of red and blue, though?”

Scratching through his neat, blond locks, Steve lowered himself into the chair nearest his partner. “Yeah…would you believe me if I said they were out of green?”

“During peak Christmas shopping season?” Bucky shook his head, sending his hair flying in a defiant brown wave. “No. Not one bit. You picked blue because it was patriotic, didn’t you?”

“Okay, just because I’m Captain America doesn’t mean _everything_ I do has to be patriotic,” Steve groused, picking at specks of lint on the remaining red shirt. “Actually, the reason I got blue was because you look good in that color.”

In that moment, Bucky was actually thankful for the overgrown forest of hair on his chin and cheeks. If it hadn’t been there, he would have noticeably blushed something awful. Even though he didn’t need to hide it from Steve, it made his comeback all the more satisfying.

“Good thing you got red, too, then. I think you look fantastic in it.”

Wait for it, annnnd…yup, there it was, the tiniest little restrained bit of pink on the great Captain America’s face. Bucky added a tally to his internal scoreboard.

“It wasn’t easy to find blue, actually,” Steve redirected, though his fond smile said it all. “Every single thing in that store was green, red, green, red…Christmas sure is commercialized. I don’t remember it being like that back in the day.”

Loosening up from their earlier banter, Bucky teased, “You sound like an old man. ‘Back in my day…’”

“That would make you an old man too, you realize,” Steve fired back, chuckling.

“At least I don’t look it.” Bucky only realized a few moments too late what he’d implied. “Not that you do, either. If you did, I’d still love you though.”

That last part had just sort of…fallen out of Bucky’s mouth without his permission. He didn’t object to expressing love for Steve, far from it after all they’d been through together, but doing so verbally didn’t come naturally to him most times.

Mouth falling open and eyes atwinkle, Steve reached across the table to grasp Bucky’s metal hand in his own. Even without the full sensory experience that nerve endings would offer him, Bucky could nearly feel the warmth radiating through the vibranium circuits like a phantom trace.

“I love you too, Buck, old man or not.” Steve allowed himself a chuckle, lightening the mood. “Though with that face forest you’ve got going on, you’re starting to get there…”

“Ha ha,” Bucky drawled, flicking his hand away even as the smile remained plastered on his face.

“Aww, c’mon Buck, I didn’t mean it.” Steve’s hand chased after Bucky’s, but redirected its course halfway to cup his bushy cheek instead. “I like the beard, it’s…it’s…” Steve struggled for a few seconds. “Soft yet manly? Doesn’t make you old. It isn’t like our years will catch up to one of us and turn us old all of a sudden, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

_Yeah…that would be silly,_ Bucky thought, trying and failing to imagine his boyfriend with wrinkles. Would the super soldier serum even allow for that to happen?

Steve hummed, draping the blue flannel across Bucky’s shoulders. “And even if that did somehow happen, I’d stick with you.” He pressed a single long kiss to the side of Bucky’s head, parting his long hair for better access.

Bucky leaned towards him, warmer than any flannel could ever hope to make him feel. “To the end of the line.”

_Thus ends the sixteenth day of Christmas._


End file.
